


Bad Decisions [or, ostensibly the worst idea ever]

by cryptiddentalstudent, plummuffins



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bad Puns, Crying, M/M, Masturbation, and i love my pal who wrote this with me, but i love it, fucking shoot me, ican'tbelieveiwrotesomethinglongerthan1200words, jade harley is a gift, this was a mistake, this was the worst idea ever, too bad she cant have an ao3 account, um
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 15:31:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9908849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryptiddentalstudent/pseuds/cryptiddentalstudent, https://archiveofourown.org/users/plummuffins/pseuds/plummuffins
Summary: Bad decisions, bad decisions, bad decisions, bad decisions, you chant in your head but it wasn’t often you got a moment to yourself. Not when you had a kid brother at home to take care of. Really, you should have known better than to do this, especially when you were on the clock. But it had been 15 weeks since you’d last seen a cock, let alone touched one. And smuppets could only do so much for you anymore… That is how you find yourself in a lonely bathroom stall with your childhood puppet propped on the back of the toilet watching you with its lifeless yet somehow expressive eyes.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was a collaborative effort with my good pal who you can find on tumblr at cryptiddentalstudent. 
> 
> I came up with this like 3 days ago because I was in the public bathroom in my school and I heard a girl 2 stalls down jerking it real good and I messaged my good pal and conspirator on this fic and she told me tO KNOCK ON THE DOOR AND ASK HER IF SHE NEEDED HELP and thus this fic idea was born because I didn’t have a vindictive author with a D20 forcing me to embarrass the poor girl but hahahaha Jake sure does.
> 
> please kill me. we rolled a D20 for a lot of the actions, I will list those at the end of the fic.

You thought you were alone. 

 

You locked yourself in the stall, propping Lil Cal up on the back of the toilet before you unzipped your pants and pulled your dick out, locking eyes with your puppet. You spat on your hand unceremoniously and ran it along the semi-erect length. You bit your lip, looking at those tiny puppet hands and imagining them moving on their own, caressing your shaft for you. As you imagined that touch with a shudder, you tightened your grip, increasing the friction as you rubbed up and down, pumping member into a full hard-on without much effort.  _ Fuck, 15 weeks without sex will make a man okay with just about anything _ , you reflected.

 

But just as you were getting into things, a small moan left your lips followed by a gasp that didn’t come from you. For a second you thought...maybe it was Lil Cal? But then you heard a noise a few stalls over. Suddenly the unmistakable sound of a stall door opening and a toilet flushing met your ears before footsteps begin to approach your door.

 

“Hey are you okay in there, mate--” the words of the other man were cut off as he tripped, hitting his head on the stall. You look down to see the back of a man’s head slip under the door, freezing with your hand still mid-stroke. Your blood runs cold as you watch him roll over with a groan, squinting up and you as he adjusts his glasses. You see his eyes land first on your length, all exposed 9 inches, and then drift slowly up to your exposed eyes and a rush of pure regret courses through you as you realize that you left your sunglasses on Cal’s lap for safe-keeping. You make unfortunate eye contact in this moment, seeing the most beautiful green orbs behind those smudged glasses. Wow, what an entirely inappropriate thought to have in this situation. An exasperated sigh leaves your lips and you clear your throat, trying to reason a way out of this.

 

“Uh,” you begin smoothly. Shit. You look at your exposed member and then back down at him. Looks like you’re just going to have to own this. “I didn’t think anyone was here.”

 

“Yes, well,” the man’s face is bright red and he looks incredibly uncomfortable. He doesn’t look away from your eyes as though he were compelled by some otherworldly force. You guess he is seeing as he’s probably trying to avoid looking at your dick. You’re minorly insulted but you can’t exactly blame him. “Um, it would appear so,” his gaze drops to your chest in a fleeting moment of sweet release from the prolonged, awkward eye contact before he speaks again, “Dirk.”

 

_ Oh my fucking god _ . You still have your nametag on. This is decidedly the worst thing that has ever happened to you.

 

“I-I should,” the man begins to wiggle out from under the stall door, “I’m just gonna--leave.” 

 

_ Thank fucking god. _ You watch him move out and hear him stand up, still too thoroughly mortified to come up with anything to say back to that.

 

“Terribly sorry,”  _ Oh my god he’s apologizing now _ . _ Why? _ “Um, h-have a grand time finishing up there.” And then you can hear the man hurry and abscond from the room. About fucking time. 

 

“Fuck,” impossibly you are still hard--in fact you are now harder than you were before. Closing your eyes you imagine a much different scenario--one where the man stays. He would have slid further into the stall instead, maybe pulling himself up onto his knees as he looked up at you through his lashes.  _ ‘Can I help you?’ _ he’d have asked you as he took your cock into his wet mouth, wrapping it in those luscious, red lips---you finish with lingering thoughts of green eyes, a haggard moan filling the heavy silence around you. 

 

You look down at your spent shaft, sighing at the mess on your hands. You honestly can’t believe you just did that. That man was a complete stranger and now you have to deal with the fact that he got caught up in your weird, depraved sexual fantasy. God you're fucked up. You leave the stall to wash your hands in shame. As you walk back to retrieve Cal from his post you notice something sticking out from a stall further down. With a sinking sense of dread you approach the object to discover a black gym bag. With a groan you unzip it, digging around inside until you find a wallet. “Jake English,” you mutter as you stare at the face of the man who you never actually wanted to see again, or that’s what you had told yourself at least.  _ That’s what the lost and found is for _ , you think with relief. You finish your job that night, making sure to drop the belongings off behind the lost and found counter and resolve to erase all memories of those green eyes and unfortunate circumstances. 

 

****

 

The following Friday, after having shirked lost and found duty successfully all week, you couldn’t avoid it any longer. And now you are stuck working the counter, watching the minutes tick by in dread. The black bag is still on the floor where you left it, you’ve checked at least once every day, promising you another encounter with Jake English. You can’t tell if the knot in your stomach is from the horror of this reality or from a sick, masochistic excitement. You think it’s probably the latter because you’ve had to mentally restrain yourself from reaching into the bag to pull out the wallet a couple of times. For some reason those eyes have stuck with you for the past week and you’re getting real tired of thinking that you’d do just about anything to see them again. Instead, you had put Cal down on the bag, so at the very least when you look at it you meet his judging, blank stare and it can distract you from the memory of the lingering eye contact of the bag’s owner.

 

The day has passed without any sort of encounters, and in the last hour of your shift an overly friendly woman comes up asking you about a bag of jewelry--”Cheap rainbow coloured rings, I’m sure they’re back there.”--and if she can look for her brother’s missing belongings. You politely explain that you can’t hand her anything that isn’t hers and that he will have to come collect his lost artifacts himself before you go into the back to the safe where jewelery gets locked up to check for her rings. It takes you a moment to find the black book with the lock combinations in it--they change every week--and to retrieve a ziplock bag full of cheap looking rainbow rings before you head out to the front to hand them to who you assume is Jade Harley given as that is the name written in sharpie on the bag. As you walk out from the back you look up to see none other than Jake English standing nervously beside Jade. 

 

_ Oh fuck _ , you think but you manage to keep your cool as you calmly walk up to them both. “Jade Harley, I guess?”

 

“That’s me!” She hands you her ID to verify and you barely glance at it before giving it back to her with the bag. “And this is my brother, Jake. He’s looking for a bag…”

 

Without breaking your poker face you turn to Jake, hoping beyond hope that your glasses obscure your face enough to stop him recognizing you. “Do you have an ID?” you ask like a fucking jackass because you _ know _ he  _ doesn’t _ .

 

“No, unfortunately it was in my lost bag,” Jake says, sounding legitimately apologetic. He doesn’t appear to recognize you and you bask in the moment of relief this brings, ignoring the small twinge of disappointment. It’s for the best. “Is there any way you could look me up, ah,” you see him squint at your chest and you are hit with a distinct sense of deja vu. Oh no. You see him read your name tag and watch in horror as recognition dawns across his face. “D-Dirk.” 

  
An awkward silence falls between you and your face stays blessedly blank as his goes red once more. Welp, there went any hope of that going well. Jade looks between you both in confusion. “Am I missing something?”

 

You bend down and pick up the bag, letting Cal drop to the floor. In the moment you are hidden, you do your best to compose yourself. You are Strider: cool and unaffected is second nature to you. You push the mortification aside and prepare yourself to do what you do best, make an ass of yourself. When you come back up, you set the bag on the counter in a rather aggressive motion before you pull out the wallet from the side pocket where you’d stuck it. “It shouldn’t be a problem. Jake English, right?” Your voice stays cool and you hold the wallet out to him. 

 

“Y-yes,” Jake practically squeaks back at you, surprised that you know his name. He doesn’t move to take the wallet, however.

 

“Could you please take the ID out for me so I can confirm it’s you?” You smirk in what you know is an obnoxious manner. There's nothing you can do to salvage this so you might as well own it.

 

Jake hesitantly reaches out and snatches the wallet from your hand without making any skin contact. He fishes the ID out and hands it back to you and you take it, making a big production out of comparing the ID photo to him.

 

“I don’t know. Have you gotten a sunburn since this photo was taken?”

 

“No,” Jake takes the ID back. “I have been in the Alps, so that is not likely.” 

 

“It must have been  _ hard _ to travel without your ID.”

 

Jake chokes briefly, obviously catching your shitty innuendo and clearing his throat before speaking, “ _ Hard _ -ly; I have my passport.”

 

“Why such a sudden trip? Business or  _ pleasure _ ?”

 

“I-I was...it was just for, um, pleasure. I am researching man-made caves and mine shafts in the mountains.”

 

“Oh, so you’ve a thing for exploring  _ shafts _ , huh?” You can’t hide your smirk any longer as you watch him becoming increasingly flustered, Jade swings her head wildly between the two of you, growing more confused as she tries to understand exactly what is happening here.

 

“I just--It’s not-- _ I just like to adventure _ !” Jake sputters indignantly.

 

“What a coincidence, so do I.” You announce boldly, and just to prove the point you continue, “In fact, there’s a nice little coffee shop down the way that I was planning on checking out after my shift. If you’re up for the challenge, I could use a companion.”

 

“I--You! You’re _propositioning me_? After, after--,” Jake gestures wildly with his hands. Huh. You didn’t think he could get any redder. 

 

“What, you didn’t like what you saw?”

 

Jake, wide-eyed, seems about to retaliate when--

 

“Can someone please explain what the heck is going on?” Whoops. You’ve been so wrapped up in messing with English you’d managed to forget Harley was even there. By the look of surprise on his face, English seems to have forgot too. Huh. 

 

“Jade,” Jake gasps, shooting her a stricken look, “I--my, it’s getting late, we had best be on our way.” He grabs his bag off the counter in a hurry.

 

“It’s not late!!! And that man just asked you on a date!!! You can’t just leave without saying anything!!!” Jade yells, struggling as Jake starts to pull her out the door. 

 

“Listen Jade I’ll tell you later it’s a long story and--” For the second time that day Jake is interrupted, only this time by the tell-tale loud obnoxious wailing that everyone in the Midwest recognizes as the severe weather siren. “Oh dear.”

 

You send a silent prayer of thanks to the tornado gods and you leap over the counter. “Come on, the shelters are this way.” You lead them away from the counter and after the group of people filing towards the locker rooms. You think you hear Jake whisper “You’ve got to be kidding me.” under his breath. Your smirk widens into a grin. 

 

After everyone has piled inside the space, which is arguably too small for this amount of people, you find yourself in a corner with Jake and Harley. 

 

“Sooooooo,” Jade drawls, sitting down on a bench near by and staring at you both expectantly. “How about that story? You obviously know each other. How’d you two meet?”

 

“Well, I was working late--” You begin, still grinning, only to be cut off by English.

 

“Absolutely not.” Jake shoots you a murderous look.

 

“Jake!”

 

“We met here when I was working late one night. It’s why he left his stuff. I didn’t know anyone was around and I,” you glance at Jake and resist the urge to wink, “spooked him.” 

 

“Y-yeah.”

 

“O-kay,” Jade draws the word out slowly, flicking her gaze between the both of you in disbelief. “What  _ really _ happened?”

 

“Um, w-which coffee shop were you talking about?” Jake deflects, turning away from his sister entirely to face you. His face wears the expression of a man condemned to the gallows as he desperately attempts to avoid his fate.

 

“One down the street, it’s called Skaia or something,” you say to him, pulling down one side of your shades and sending Jade a wink. “Now I would love to tell you all about the truth Jade, but I’ve got to make a phone call.” 

 

With that you quickly abscond while pulling out your cellphone. After all, you do need to check on Dave. You hadn’t noticed the weather was this bad. Shit, what if they sent them home from school early and nobody bothered to tell you? Dave was a little shit, probably thought he could handle a little bad weather all by himself. He probably wouldn’t think anything of it. While you make a call to the school to check in, you watch Harley and English from across the room. 

 

Jade huffs in annoyance as she sees that you actually are making a phone call. She then turns on Jake and starts talking at about a mile a minute. Jake looks absolutely frazzled and seems to be refusing to answer any of her questions with a mounting appearance of hysteria. It almost makes you laugh. 

 

Somebody finally picks up the other end of the line and turn your attention back to your phone call. The woman who answers assures you that school is still in session as they are North of the storm and that all the children are safe. Having completed your parental duty, you hang up the phone call and pull up the weather. You let out a low whistle. Looks like you are going to be here a while. You glance back to the other side of the room. Harley and English are still going at it. Your smirk returns. Well, at least it won’t be boring. 

 

Jade catches you looking at them, and since you did not have the foresight to pretend you were still on the phone she motions for you to come over. “Who did you call?” she asks like a nosey little shit as you approach.

 

“The president of the united states of none of your fucking business,” you say like a totally cool guy.

 

Jade rolls her eyes at you. “You don’t have to be rude. We’re going to be stuck here a while.”

 

You know she is right, so you relent, slouching back against the wall of your chosen corner. “I called my little bro’s school. I wanted to make sure he was still alive.”

 

“Aww,” Jade makes doe eyes at you and then smacks her brother in the shoulder. “Look, Jake, he’s a loving older brother! Your parents must be so proud.”

 

You cough, clearing your throat in a totally suave and intentional move. “We don’t have any.”

 

Jade hesitates for a moment, before turning to Jake, shamelessly,  “He has a  _ tragic backstory _ , Jake.”

 

Jake shoots you an uncomfortable look, “Um.”

 

“It’s not tragic,” you shake your head. 

 

“How is it not tragic? Two brothers--orphaned by a tragic accident. Their only home a car as they travel state-to-state--”

 

“We have an  _ apartment _ .” You say, vaguely offended. As if you wouldn’t provide Dave a nice home.

 

Jade gasps, “An apartment! You must have to work the streets at night to pay for that.”

 

“Jade!!!!” Jake shouts in dismay. You’re starting to wonder if maybe the mortified look on his face is permanent. 

 

“Yeah, it’s real hard. I can usually turn tricks with some nice puppet ass to lure them in.” You wink at Jake from behind your glasses. He doesn’t see it, but the mere mention of puppets seems to have him approaching the color of a tomato at an accelerated pace. Jade on the other hand seems to think nothing of it. She sniffs dramatically, wiping a non existent tear from her eye.

 

“And yet you still can barely scrape by, just waiting for a prince to come sweep you off your feet. Jake, you  _ have _ to go on this date or I will!” Jade pauses. She tilts her head quizzically and seems to actually consider her own statement. “Wait. Can I go on a date with you?”

 

You shake your head, “Sorry kid, I only bat for one team.” 

 

Jade sighs, shoulders slacking a disappointed slump. “Such a shame. We could have been great together.” She pauses again. “You’re not actually living in a car traveling state to state are you?”

 

You give a short huff. “We have a one room apartment. Is that tragic enough for you?”

 

“Only one room? Do you heroically sacrifice all of your privacy and crash on a futon so that your little brother has a semi normal private life?”

 

Your lips twitch but you don’t actually smirk. “I, umm, actually you hit that one straight on the head.”

 

“Wait really?” Jade lunges forward on the bench. “Wow that’s actually totally awesome of you.” 

 

“I know. I’m an awesome guy.”

 

“ _ Totally _ awesome. I’d almost say… cool.” Jade wiggles her eyebrows at Jake. “Are you convinced yet?”

 

Jake jumps a little bit. You notice since you mentioned the apartment he’s looked kind of out of it. “I don’t think…” he frowns at you, “You, you don’t have a lot of time to yourself, do you?”

 

“You could say that.” You’re grateful that your Strider nature stops you from flushing with embarrassment as you realize what he’s getting at. “It’s... _ hard  _ to  _ come _ by.”

 

Jake groans, resting his head in his hands. “I will not go on a date with you.”

 

“Jaaake,” Jade whines, “You  _ have _ to--”

 

Just then a man walks in to announce that the dangerous part of the storm had passed and that they are now free go. Jake perks up at the man’s words, “Wonderful. Let’s go.” Jade deflates and begins to sulkily walk away, knowing her battle has been lost.

 

You know you shouldn’t but as he walks past you to leave you reach out and grab his arm, “Jake,” you say, “Just one coffee date. Let me make it up to you.” When did this become more than just proving a point? You actually feel disappointed that he may not want to go on a date.

 

“I…” Jake stares at you before sighing. “Okay.”

  
  


****

 

The next day, Jake stares down at his mug, stirring it for probably the twentieth time since the two of you arrived at the cafe. He clears his throat. “So…” He trails off, just like he has the other five attempts at starting a sentence.

 

“So.” You reply, taking a gulp of your own drink.

 

“Puppets?  _ Really _ ?”

 

You choke as he speaks, your drink halfway down your throat. This sends you into a coughing fit that brings water to your eyes. “Oh my god,” you manage to croak out as your facilities return to you. 

 

“No really, of all things, why?” He looks up and meets your eyes, though you are still wearing your glasses.

 

“Is this really what you want to talk about?” You all but groan, leaning back in your seat to stare at the ceiling. Of course it is. You couldn’t actually be allowed to catch a break could you? 

 

“Listen, you asked me on a date after… well,  _ that _ , and we’ve been sitting here in silence for at least fifteen minutes and I’m not seeing you come up with a better conversation topic.”

 

“Literally anything could be better than this.” You’re not begging. Nope.

 

“Then change the blasted subject! Pick something!  _ You  _ asked  _ me  _ on a date why didn’t you have something planned?”

 

“I didn’t  _ actually  _ think I’d get this far.” You admit in defeat. 

 

“...Fair enough.” He sighs, shoulders slumping. “I just-- let’s forget the whole blasted thing. How we, umm, came to be acquainted I mean. It’s getting to be a tired subject and to be honest I’m quite done with the entire thing. So let's start over, shall we?” 

 

“Hi, I’m Dirk, I like puppet fucking and long walks on the beach.”

 

“Dammit Dirk! I’m serious!”

 

You crack a smile at him. “Nice to meet you, Serious.”

 

“Aurggg!” Jake flings himself backwards into his chair, crossing his arms in frustration. Shit. You feel somehow worse than you did when you were talking about puppets. You guess you should get serious. 

 

“Sorry. Couldn’t resist.” You pause for a moment and you absolutely do not fidget with your sunglasses out of nerves. That is not a thing that you do. Instead you reach your hand across the table. “Dirk Strider. I, well, I didn’t really plan for this. Like I said, didn’t really think I’d get this far. I guess umm, I like building robots? And I’m also a major jackass. I’ve been a real dick to you and I don’t really know why you’re here seeing as I appear to be physically incapable of forming an apology. So consider this my peace offering. Although it really should be coming from you because this wasn’t your fault at all. It was my bad decision that got me into this mess. Please don’t leave me hanging because I don’t think my coolness can take that and my shitty apology. I’ll never be able to come back to this coffee shop.” 

 

The tips of Jake’s lips twitch upwards but he still eyes your hand suspiciously as he reaches out his own, accepting your handshake. “Jake English. I well, to be honest the only reason I’m here is because Jade absolutely wouldn’t let me not come. And I guess apology accepted. Now, we put all these ridiculous shenanigans aside, agreed?”

 

“Agreed.” The two of you shake on it and Jake seems to become less trepidatious, as do you. However as he pulls his arm back his elbow catches the coffee mug. It would have gone toppling over if not for your super awesome reflexes. You reach out and snatch it out of the air without spilling a drop just as Jake lunges for it.

 

“Whoa!” Jake exclaims, impressed. “Those are some lightening impressive reflexes you’ve got there, Strider.” Huh, he switched to your last name. You wonder if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. 

 

“When I’m not turning tricks I’m a professional ninja.” 

 

“I’d believe it! I’ve traveled a number of places and met people who would claim the same, but I don’t any of them could have done that.” You set the coffee back down in front of him and try not to fidget at the compliment. 

 

“It wasn’t that impressive.” You say modestly. You’re secretly pretty pleased. Who knew that all you had to do to impress Jake was to show a ridiculous amount of physical prowess? Actually, you did meet him at the gym. Maybe that should have been obvious. 

 

“If you say so. Where did you study?”

 

You shrug. “Self taught mostly. Which probably doesn’t actually make you believe I have skills beyond catching coffee. Maybe I can show you sometime.”

Jake smiles. “We’ll have to see about that. Now I know its back tracking a bit but I do believe you mentioned building robots. I must say that sounds mighty interesting. I’ve always had an interest in mechanics myself but never a lot of time to settle down and learn. Care to tell me about it? ” 

 

“Sure.” And so you do. Jake listens attentively as you try not to bore him with the details of some of your projects. He’s much more knowledgeable about the subject than you expected him to be which is a pleasant surprise. Eventually you change topics and Jake starts to share stories of his adventures. It seems that he wasn’t kidding when he said he’d been in the alps last week. He does some kind of work for national geographic and scouts out areas before camera teams arrive. You listen, enraptured by his voice.

  
You talk on and on for hours together until it comes time to go, coffee forgotten after one cup. You leave the date with a feeling of satisfaction, a phone number, and the lingering thought that maybe that wasn’t the worst decision of your life after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> Choices:  
> 19 kid at home  
> Dick size: 9” (too big)  
> Last time he got laid: 15 weeks  
> Ponies?: 17 ponies  
> Did we need to go here? 20 oh look i rolled a 1 WHERE IS MY LUCK WHEN I AM IN A CAMPAIGN?? IT’S ALL RESERVED FOR DIRK’S DICK  
> Moan Cal’s name? 11 (jk)  
> Dirk stealth check: 4  
> Jake, hears it with an 18, knowledge: 3  
> Awkward eye contact: 19 Jake 20 Dirk  
> Charisma (Dirk): 15 Bluff Check (Jake): crit 1  
> Roll for ???? 6 Jake  
> 14 for Dirk  
> 15 for Jake to say yes  
> 18 on charisma to Jade
> 
> Please note we almost wrote this between AR and Dirk--in a futuristic world where the only job Dirk could get was as a cleaner late at night because of being a human, and AR is the one who hears him. Idk why AR was in the fucking human bathroom but you know. Poetic license.


End file.
